Yet she stood before me strangely docile.
"Because," said she at last, "you looks at me lately as--as you are
doing now, as if--as though--"
"I had only just found out how beautiful you are, Diana? And don't you
know why?"
"Yes," she murmured, "but--you don't."
"I have discovered the reason this morning," said I, drawing her a
little nearer, "I love you, Diana, I know it at last. Why, good
heaven, I must have loved you for days!"
"You have!" she nodded, without looking at me.
"You--you knew it, then?"
"Of course!" she nodded again. "So did Jerry--so did Jessamy, so did
your tall uncle--and your aunt, I think, and--and everybody else in
all the world--except yourself, Peregrine."
"Blind fool that I was--"
"No, Peregrine, it was because you never guessed, that I didn't run
away--"
"And you never will now, Diana, because you are mine, But I loved the
sweet, pure soul of you first and so, my Diana, although I am
longing--longing to kiss you--those dear gentle eyes, your red lips--I
never will until you give them, because my love, being very great, is
very humble, like--like this!" And sinking to my knees, I would have
kissed the hem of her gown, but with a soft, sweet cry of reproach,
she slipped to her knees also and swaying to me, hid her face in my
breast.
"O Peregrine," she murmured, looking up at me through a mist of tears,
"it is a wonderful thing to be loved by a gentleman--"
"Then God keep me so!" I whispered.
Pages:
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265